Not Talking
by Pheasant Plucker
Summary: Abby is assaulted in an alleyway right beside McGee's building, but why was she even there? And why don't the injuries match with... Anything? Why did she call Tim begging for help earlier in the night? Why did she insist on no one else in the team hearing anything about it? After a blow to the head and a lot of alcohol, she doesn't know. Gabby/McAbby, Fluff, mystery, smut.
1. Chapter 1 - Inconsistent Injuries

**Warnings: Angsty, mentions of rape, but no worse than some episodes. Will become explicit with some very tasty smut later.**

**This concept has been in the back of my mind for years, I think it would be inevitable IF the show didn't depend on a lack of long term character and relationship development for its ratings**

**This is, in its essence, a mystery. We're trying to work out who, where, when, why, how and what happens once the dust settles. Some of those questions are easy, others are more difficult. As usual, there is enough angst to balance the happy ending into a satisfying emotive story curve, but not so much as to torture readers.**

**One last thing, I'd like to reassure you that I haven't taken anyone dramatically out of character. My BF, on reading this, kept saying "It's Tony, it'll be Tony, you hate Tony!" ...Okay, so sometimes certain characters annoy me, but that's no reason to accuse them of horrible crimes!**

* * *

Timothy McGee was sitting at his typewriter in the golden light of a single bankers lamp, drinking tea and writing profusely. He had a plot, he wanted it down and it came easily, he could play with the details later. He was intent on his work and was fairly irritated when he was distracted by sirens driving closer and closer to his building. Finally a vehicle turned off its siren right outside, but there was at least one more in the distance. The fire alarm hadn't gone off, but it was still worrying, he looked out the front window to see an ambulance parked right outside, and a police car approaching. He quickly pulled on his coat and went to investigate. When he got outside he was glad to see that very few others had done the same. The ambulance crew was focused on something going on in the alleyway, he stood back.

Eventually they rolled out a stretcher with a patient, obscured by the paramedics. He wondered, on seeing the patient's big, scuffed, buckled boot, if an addict had ODed in the alley beside his home, it wasn't a comforting thought. After a little turn of the trolley he could see that the boots were long, knee high, with buckles all the way up. Everything went cold, into slow motion. He ran forward and saw her, bruised and unconscious with only one pigtail, being rolled into to the back of an ambulance in the street outside his house.

"Abby!"

Someone stopped him.

"Are you family?"

"Close enough!" He replied, stepping around the man and jumping into the ambulance.

"Agent McGee, NCIS... Friend, co-worker. Will she be okay? What happened?" He asked the paramedic frantically.

"She's has bruises and abrasions, a mild concussion and very high blood alcohol, but she's stable, no signs of any more serious injuries at this point. Looks like she was attacked, her backpack was emptied all over the ground."

He sat beside Abby in shock as they drove. Abby stirred then looked up at him, struggling to focus.

"Tim!"

"You'll be okay Abby, looks like you've been attacked, we're on our way to the hospital, don't worry."

She reached for him, then, in a slurred voice, said the last thing he expected. "Don't... Don't call Gibbs! Don't call... Anyone! Timmy, promise me!"

"Abby why? Let me call Ducky, at least let him have a look at you, please!"

"Just Ducky... Tell him not to... No one else..."

Her eyes feel shut and after watching her for a moment, he pulled out his phone. It had been on silent, he hadn't looked at it in hours, not while he was writing. There was a missed call and a voicemail, he ignored them and quickly called Ducky.

"Hello?" Came the sleepy voice of Dr Mallard after far too many rings.

"Ducky! You gotta meet me at the hospital, I'm with Abby, don't call anyone, just meet me!"

"Timothy..."

"Ducky, do it!"

* * *

Ducky dressed as quickly as possible and got to his car before realizing the vague nature of "the hospital", but he decided to make an educated guess, and started speeding in that direction.

Tim looked at Abby, then checked his missed call, it had been her, then the voicemail.

"Tim... Timmy, I need your help... please help me... Please be home! I'm on my way over." She sounded drunk and shaky on the phone, the time on the message was only an hour before.

McGee and Ducky stood by Abby's bed as she lay unconscious, make-up smudged, hair ruffled, new bruising coming up under their eyes. Tim was leaning over to touch her cheek when Abby's eyes twitched, they gently opened, then were suddenly wide. She tried to grab his with both hands, but one was tangled in blankets and tubes.

"Timmy! Timmy..." She looked terrified. "Don't tell Gibbs! Please!"

"Abby, why?"

She was saved from answering as they were interrupted by a young doctor.

"Excuse me, could I see you outside? It's important."

As Ducky walked out, Tim bent down and kissed a small part of her face that didn't seem to be bruised and said

"I'll be back, don't worry." As calmly as he could, then followed them out of the room, gently closing the door.

"I'm afraid it's not good news" said the doctor. McGee felt panic begin to cloud his vision. "It looks like she may have been raped." He stood there feeling numb as the two doctors discussed details. Eventually he was lead to a waiting room, at some point someone handed him coffee, he assumed, because he had coffee. He sat looking into it for what could have been minutes or hours.

Eventually Ducky came back to him.

"I'm sorry Timothy, it appears they were right, but..."

He snapped to attention at the hesitant tone "But what?"

"She has classic defensive wounds, it was clearly an attack. She's bruised all over... There must have been quite a struggle before the blow that sent her unconscious... But there are some less consistent injuries."

"Like what?"

"Some of the trauma to her body appears to be several hours old, in particular, she has significant bruising to her lower back and buttocks, as if she'd been hit violently with a large, blunt object. I thought at first that it might have been from hitting the ground, or something on her way down, but there are no abrasions, and I doubt her skirt would have protected her, either way, they appear to be too old to have been caused by this attack. There are also some scratches and abrasions in other areas that seem to fit an earlier attack. I believe she may have been attacked twice today."

Tim had his head in his hands.

"This is my fault. She called me asking for help earlier... I didn't answer."

"Timothy, there's no way you could have..." He was cut of as Tim got up and briskly walked down the hall.

"I'm going to see her."

Dr Mallard muttered to himself "Jethro will never forgive me..." and pulled out his phone. He quickly found his friend's number and called. It rang over and over with no answer.

* * *

Gibbs heard nothing, lying on the basement floor, surrounded by bourbon.


	2. Chapter 2 - Timmy, Where's My Underwear?

Ducky waited several minutes before following McGee. He knocked softly on the door, then gently opened the door to see Tim holding Abby's limp hand, looking truly miserable. He spoke quietly.

"She's had a lot of painkillers Timothy, the EEGs were normal, don't worry, she really is just sleeping... You could go and get some rest, I'll stay with her."

"No, it's Friday, I don't have to be anywhere in the morning."

"Actually it's Saturday now. I've already taken DNA samples, there was more than enough under her nails, she must have put up quite a fight, I'd say we're looking for a man with fairly obvious injuries."

"Good. ...You know how much she hates hospitals?"

"I do... Perhaps I could talk to them about having her discharged early. You wouldn't mind taking her home with you? I think she'd rather see you than me."

"Of course."

"I'll go and talk to them"

Ducky got up and left quietly.

Abby stirred but didn't open her eyes.

"Timmy..." she mumbled

He grabbed her hand tightly and lent to her face.

"Timmy I wanna run the DNA... Get it for me... I wanna do it myself... Please"

"Abby you're..."

"Please"

"Okay, I'll make sure it goes to you."

"Thankyou..." She seemed to drift off again.

The next morning, or possibly afternoon, Abby woke up in Tim's bed. He was sitting close beside the bed reading The Colour of Magic (yet again). She felt dazed and a little unsure of what was going on.

"Tim... What am I doing here?" She shifted a little "And why does everything hurt?"

"You don't remember..."

She shook her head slowly, then regretted it. He explained they events of the previous night as gently as he could.

"Do you have the DNA samples?"

"Yeah, you were very insistent that I kept them all for you to test yourself."

"That sounds like me" she replied. With some effort, she sifted over to the other side of the bed, then sheepishly said "Sit up here?"

He got on the bed, sat beside her and gently put his arms around her.

"I'm sorry Abby"

"Why?"

"You called me for help, I didn't hear my phone."

"...I did?"

"You don't remember that?"

"I remember a little bit of being in my lab in the morning... that's it."

"You called be saying you needed help with something, you sounded upset, and pretty drunk."

"I don't remember drinking, I don't know why I'd be drinking... These are the clothes I wore to work, so I can't've gone anywhere special."

After a long silence snuggled under his arm, Abby was finally fully awake, and aware of her surroundings.

"...Timmy?"

"Yeah?"

"...Where's my underwear?"

"They didn't find it."

"Oh"


	3. Chapter 3 - He Was Here

Finally Tim got up.

"What do you want for lunch?"

She thought for a moment then said "Nachos!" with a big grin.

Tim was happy, the old Abby was back.

"Okay, you wanna watch tv while I go find nachos?"

"Sure"

He lead her to the couch, helping her more than was really necessary, then went back for the blankets and put them over her, she hid playfully. He was really glad she couldn't remember the night before.

* * *

They spent a surprisingly happy, relaxed day, mostly on the couch watching movies. After the the third Indiana Jones, they were both tired.

"You go to bed, I'll set this up for me."

"No, Timmy" she said quietly with a timid little smile, taking his wrist "Come with me... Promise I'll keep my hands to myself"

He smiled understandingly "Okay"

Lying in bed, Tim finally spoke.

"Why didn't you want me to tell the team?"

"Did I say that?"

"Yeah, a lot of times. You kept begging me not to tell Gibbs, and everyone else. You let me call Ducky, but that was it."

She thought about it for some time.

"I don't know. I wouldn't hide anything from Gibbs... I don't know."

"Do you think we should tell them? Gibbs is going to kill me for not calling him."

"I must've had a good reason... I guess... Maybe we should wait, I might remember what it was."

She kept her word, they spent the night comfortably close, but not too close.

* * *

On Monday morning she found the samples on her evidence table as promised, she started work on it immediately, putting on loud music in the hope of avoiding interruptions. After a good hour in the bathroom with industrial strength makeup, she had managed to believably hide the blue tinges on her face. She chose long pants and a hoodie to cover everything else. She had scratches on her back, thighs and knees, a huge bruise from her lower back to her thighs, a big bump on the side of her head (mercifully covered by her hair) and what looked like bites on one shoulder, but luckily the bruising on her face was nowhere near as bad as it had looked, being pretty shallow, and with the help of a cream she'd never heard of, they were almost gone. After playing with some cold cases, she went out for lunch, walking well beyond the usual cafes in the hope of avoiding the team.

When she got back to the lab she checked on everything, then went to work on reports at her desk. She saw it before she sat down, it definitely hadn't been there in the morning, a neatly folded bit of black lace. Her underwear.

She called McGee's mobile immediately.

"You found them! Where did you find them? Where were they? ...And why were you there?"

"Found what, Abby?"

"My underwear!"

"I didn't find them..."

"Did you tell anyone else?"

"No"

"McGee, come down here right now!"

* * *

The sliding door to her office was locked a moment when he arrived in the lab, she opened it as soon as she saw him, then locked it behind him.

"He was here! He gave them back! What's going on?"

"Maybe it was Ducky..." Tim replied skeptically.

"No, I called him. Tim, he's been here!"

"I'll check the cameras" He said, swinging around to sit down at the computer.

"Wait... Here? You can hack them? ...Stupid question." She watched, leaning gently on his shoulder as he broke into NCIS temporary CCTV files and found her lab. They watched in fast forward until someone appeared.

"No, that's just Gibbs" she said "keep going".

They watched the whole lunch hour in fast forward, until Abby appeared again, there was nothing else.

"Well... We could go back and watch Gibbs..."

They went back and found the place they were looking for.

"It's definitely Gibbs..."

He walked into the lab, ducked into the office, then walked out. He probably didn't even see them, he certainly didn't have time to sit there and fold them neatly, but he was _there._

They were no closer.


	4. Chapter 4 - I Scratched A Lot Of People

She spent that night at McGee's house, just to be safe. He barely let her out of his sight all evening. Eventually she started to doubt herself.

"Maybe I left them there... Before I left on Friday."

"You said they weren't there this morning."

"I don't know, maybe they were. Maybe I didn't notice."

"Okay, riddle me this, why would you do that? Why would you take them off, _fold them_, even _I_ don't fold underwear, but you don't fold _anything,_ then leave them on your desk in plain view?"

"You're right, that makes even less sense."

They sat in silence, watching tv for a while, on the screen there was a woman running frantically around her house, getting ready to go out. Then Abby suddenly jumped

"Tim! I remember something! When I was finishing up on Friday, I was nervous about something... I was powering everything down really fast, I wanted to get out of the lab! I don't know why! Maybe I was scared of something. I don't _know!_"

"Why would you drink a lot if something was going on?"

"I don't know!"

"I'm worried about you Abby..."

"So am I"

He put his arms around her, gently kissing her hair. They spent most of the night on the couch, Abby was scared to sleep.

* * *

The next morning McGee walked into Abby's lab, gently knocking on the door frame so as not to startle her. When she turned around, she looked clearly dejected.

"Hey Tim... I ran the DNA from under my nails"

"And?"

"I scratched a lot of people on Friday. Who's DNA do you think I found?"

"Mine? I still nail marks on my arm."

"Yeah, you, me, Ducky, Gibbs and two paramedics. I think I dug my nails into everyone but him."

He hugged her and said

"What about your clothes?"

"I kinda thought my nails would be plenty, I didn't test my clothes yet. I'll start that tomorrow"

After he left, she sat down and pondered her results. The seven different matches didn't mean much, but maybe the quantities did, there was a lot more of two than there was of the others, really a lot.

* * *

As soon as it was time to leave, she went down to see Ducky. She waited in the hope that Palmer would have left, and he had.

"Hey Ducky" she said as levelly as possible, basically failing.

He looked at her expression, stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry" he said softly.

"I came to thank you... and... I heard you found something weird and... and the DNA's not helping."

"I did... Come and sit down." He lead her to his office with its little couch. "My conclusion, from what I saw, was that there were two separate attacks. The one in the alleyway, which resulted in the head wound and some more mild bruising and the abrasions on your arm, and an earlier one, which caused the more major bruising, and most of the abrasions to you legs."

"We know when the second one was... When was the first one?"

"Six to nine hours earlier I believe."

"But I woulda been at work then, that was about... Four o'clock... _Was_ I at work?" She asked

"I believe so, nobody left early as far as I know, and you, my dear, didn't even leave for lunch, you had it in your lab, I visited you... Everything seemed normal, you were very cheerful."

"You visited me? ...Can I ask you something weird?"

"Of course"

"Was... Was my underwear on the desk in my office?"

"No, certainly not. You were eating noodles out of a box, sitting at your computer, and there was certainly no underwear on the desk... I would have noticed."

"Thanks Ducky"

They sat side by side, her head on his shoulder in the cozy little office for a few minutes before leaving. They were both glad they did.


	5. Chapter 5 - All The Likely Places

Two days later, it was Friday again, a week later, and there was still nothing solid. Abby stayed late, just sitting in her lab staring through her computer screen, eventually McGee walked in.

"Whatcha got?"

"Nothing" she said sadly. I tested all the blood, there wasn't much, and it's all mine."

"I'm sorry"

She gave him a weak little smile.

"I could try elsewhere. I can't see anything else on it, but I could try all the likely places."

"Can I help?" He knew he couldn't, if there was one expert you could trust, it was Abby, he just wanted her to know he was there, and he didn't want to be upstairs. Working on cold cases and old files always irritated the team, but they seemed especially bad lately. The boss was grumpy, even by his standards. Luckily he hadn't been down to see Abby in days, it was clear that neither of them needed more to be worried about. He sat down beside her at the computer.

"Well... Maybe you could..."

"How?"

"You could help me find the likely places?"

"Isn't there kind of an algorithm for this?"

"Yeah... But this time it's important. And the standard formula for this kind of thing doesn't take into account my height, or my backpack, or my clothes or... my shoes. Especially my shoes."

"Yeah... Actually you're right" he said slowly "If you were kicking, the buckles on the sides of your boots probably would've scratched him, especially if he had bare legs... Sorry."

"Okay, we can start there. What else?"

"Well... Maybe... Here?" He gently put his hand behind her hip

"Yeah, that makes sense… And… Of course… Here" She motioned in the area of her breasts.

"Yeah… Of course" He said gently, she was doing well, and he really didn't want to intimidate her.

"Okay, how 'bout this" She said, getting up, walking around the desk and pulling him with her. She stood in the middle of the office, facing him. "If you were him, where would you be leaving DNA?" She put her arms out a little. "Show me"

"Abby, are you sure you're okay?"

She took a deep breath.

"I'll be fine"

"Okay…" He reached slowly toward her. "Maybe here" He said, tracing his hand down to the back of her knee. She shivered a little and he pulled away, not wanting to scare her.

"That makes sense, but it doesn't help us, I wasn't wearing any clothes there… Keep going?"

"Okay" He stepped closer toward her "there was the bite, here" he gently stroked between her neck and her shoulder. "Maybe your shirt was in the way"

"Try it" she whispered.

He lent down and tried to pull the collar of her t-shirt aside far enough to see the bite mark, but he couldn't, not without hurting her, which he realised probably wasn't on the criminal's mind. He gently put the other arm around her waist in the hope of making her feel a little more secure then spoke.

"I can reach here" Both hands occupied, he lowered his head and brushed his nose to the furthest area he could reach "Without pulling your collar too far, or if I do… trust me" he whispered, pulling her collar firmly, but as gently as possible then softly lowing his lips to the bite mark on her shoulder "I can reach the bite without wrecking your shirt… Still…" he slowly slid her collar back "You might find something here" he said, tracing his finger around the edge of the fabric, where it would have hit the side of his lips, had he released it.

They were standing just a little too close when she looked into his eyes, full of worry, full of concern she didn't share. She didn't remember it, so to her it hadn't happened, in a way. It was scary, waking up covered in bruises, remembering nothing. But in some ways it was better, for all she really knew, she fell off the swings at the local park, or slipped down the stairs at work. She knew that wasn't what happened, but she didn't have any memories of anything worse. Tim had all the memories, of seeing her unconscious, of the dark alleyway, of the hospital, of hearing the news. Somehow she felt he was getting the worse end of this deal. Finally he spoke.

"What about inside the back of your skirt?" he skimmed his hand down over the place he was talking about, then quickly, nervously, brought it back to sit comfortably around her hip. He buried his face in her neck and said "If you were lying down on the ground… I don't wanna think about it either, but it makes sense."

She whispered in his ear "It's okay. I know"

Without thought or intention, he slowly traced his face up her neck, and across her cheek. She eagerly took his lips and they stood there, in the middle of the dark office, slowly, passionately kissing, arms holding each other firmly.


	6. Chapter 6 - Disney Comfort

"Sorry…" said Tim, pulling away, but not far away.

"It's okay" She whispered in his ear, resting her head on his shoulder.

Tim thought "_It's okay?" What does "it's okay mean?" Was that a good thing? …Could I do it again? Could I do it all the time? …Reality check! After what happened to her… Yeah, no. I'll make this less awkward and everything'll be fine, back to normal._

"Hey… It's late, you've been here long enough. I'll get you some dinner, come on." _This isn't a date, this isn't a date, this isn't a date… This is an apology._

She picked up her coat and let him lead her out of the lab.

* * *

They shared dinner in a quiet little café, while Tim wondered what to do next. After accidently kissing her at a hugely inappropriate time, he felt sure he should give her space, but with her lack of results and her brooding, miserable mood, he wasn't going to send her home alone. He finally made a decision. Tonight, he would insist on taking the couch.

* * *

Early the next morning, Abby snuck out of Tim's bed, past the couch, and quietly started making hot chocolate. Every sound seemed to echo in the silent apartment, and she wasn't surprised when, sneaking back toward his room, she saw him sitting up on the couch, smirking sleepily at her. He lifted the covers beside him and patted the cushion, she obliged, sitting beside him. She held her cup close with both hands, maybe hoping its warmth could warm her body. He wrapped the blankets, then his arm around her.

"Hey Tim…"

"Yeah?"

"Will you watch happy cheesy movies with me?"

"Cheesy romantic comedies on the couch on a rainy weekend… Do I remember something about that?"

She looked down into her mug, not quite sure how to explain. Sometimes everyone needs the opposite of what they like, every soccer mom needs some Burtonesque horror now and then, every goth needs some Disney comfort now and then. She just said

"It isn't really rainy… Just a little."

He understood.

"I'll find you the cheesiest romance I've got."

Needless to say, it took him some time.

* * *

They were sitting side by side on the couch watching Bridget Jones flopped around her living room, drinking huge quantities of… Something, she probably didn't care what, singing "All By Myself" very badly, when Abby suddenly grabbed Tim's arm.

"I remember! I remember something!"

He quickly paused the dvd. And said "What? What is it?"

"I didn't go anywhere! I went home! After work I went home, I was sitting in my living room drinking everything in the house, I didn't go out and get drunk, I stayed in, drinking… Alone."

"Why?"

"I don't know! I don't think I've ever done that before!"

"That's what I thought… doesn't sound like you."

"I remember sitting on my couch, with all different bottles sitting on the coffee table… That's it. But it doesn't really mean I didn't go out, I guess. …I guess it doesn't help that much. It shows why I left my car at home… But I must've gone somewhere, otherwise how did I end up in your street? …It doesn't help us." She looked disappointed.

"You know what we have to do? We have to watch tv. You've remembered two things now, just by seeing them on tv, if you watch enough, you could remember more. Do you have anything planned this weekend?"

"No"

"Then we're spending the rest of the weekend here, eating nachos and watching tv, K?"

She smiled and nodded "Sure" a weekend on the couch watching tv couldn't be that bad.


	7. Chapter 7 - Basically a Horizontal Couch

After deciding that a bed is basically a horizontal couch, they decided that sleeping side by side probably wasn't a big problem. And woke up accidently just a little bit intertwined. Neither minded.

Abby sat on the couch waiting for hot chocolate, waiting for Tim. The couch seemed cold and uncomfortable without him. When he finally sat down, they decided on watching daytime tv for a while, in the hope that the strange variety of shows, sets, locations and actors might remind her of something. In the middle of a re-re-re-re-rerun of Sweet Charity, they got to the classic "stuck in the elevator" scene, and Abby hit mute.

"I… I thought… I don't know. Sorry." She looked confused and unsure "I guess it's just like 'Gibbs Office' …He doesn't really do that to me." She gave a little smirk "He's never angry with _me_"

He smiled at her. He was never angry with her either, but then he was rarely angry with anyone, so it didn't really count.

"You know he usually knows when I'm upset?" She said quietly "That's when I get the dark elevator treatment… He always just knows… Except now. You know he hasn't been to see me all week? I know you're just doing paperwork up there, and I'm not working on anything that really needs results, but he usually just… Comes down to see me… Sometimes."

"It's okay Abby… He's been distracted lately, something's going on. An old wife maybe? He's been really stressed, grumpy, even for Gibbs. Trust me, you're better off out of it. I wish I was."

"Thanks Timmy" She put the tv sound back on and put her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Monday morning… Monday mornings were exciting when there was a case, and relaxing when there wasn't they gave time to catch up. Abby was very well rested, having done nothing but watch tv and hug McGee all weekend, and it turned out to be a good day. A good week even. No one visited, except McGee, which was… okay. Everyone must be really grumpy up there, she thought, but it gave to time and privacy.

By Tuesday she had DNA results from her clothes, and they were pretty useless. Again, there were more people than she imagined would have touched her clothes. Quite a bit from paramedics, all of whom now had fairly trustworthy background checks, and varying levels of contamination DNA from people she had been around during the day. She hadn't ever thought about it, but people touched her a lot, she was a hugging type of person, but she had DNA from several members of the team on one outfit, she never realized she had that much contact with her friends. Either way, the guy was good, there was a plan, he thought he could do this and get away with it. She found DNA from a mouse on those clothes, but not from him. Not from a male without a good background check.

* * *

On Thursday morning she walked into the office and, for the second time, something was wrong. There, on the desk, in the same place, right beside her keyboard, was a note.

_I'm so sorry, I mean it. Please forgive me. _

There was a little heart, then

_P.S I found your underwear in my pocket, I thought I should return it, I wouldn't want you to think of it as a trophy. I don't want to scare you, but I'll come and see you some time. _

Then another little heart.

Polite criminals are always the scariest.


	8. Chapter 8 All Contamination, No Results

"Tim, come down here right now!"

"Abby, I'm just…"

"Now!"

Again, the door was locked when he got down to the lab, and again, she opened it, quickly pulled him in and locked it again. She pointed to the note and said nothing.

"I'll do CCTV, you do fingerprints!" He said, quickly sitting down at the computer.

Abby hugged him quickly from behind, then put on gloves and picked up the note. It was a page from her notepad, from on her desk. If it was the top page, she realised, it would be covered in all kinds of things. If she was lucky, it might have been written with one of her pens. Tim was working furiously at the computer, she started her analysis.

He was finished long before she was, he gently came up behind her, not wanting to disturb her work. She knew he had nothing.

"Four people went into your office between when you left last night, and when you came in. Two cleaners, the second one left right away, I guess it had already been cleaned, Gibbs, and me… twice."

"I told the cleaners they can't clean my lab!" she said angrily, still staring down at her work.

"They didn't" he said soothingly and stroked her back "Just your office"

She leant back into him, smiling a little. "It's time he came to visit me"

"Yeah… he does care, don't doubt that."

"I know"

"I'll go run background checks on the cleaners"

She spun around to face him.

"Thanks Timmy" she said, hugging him long and hard before letting him go back to the office.

* * *

Again, all contamination and no results. There were finger prints from half the team, one unknown, who turned out to be one of the cleaners, the one who came in second… maybe he wasn't going in there to check if the office was cleaned already. She went and leaned over Tim's shoulder at the computer. He could feel her breathing softly in his ear. He kicked himself for enjoying it at a time like this.

"Do you have anything on our second cleaner?" she said softly.

"Yeah… He was fired six years ago for sexually harassing a co-worker, and he lives in the area… Closer to my place."

"Keep chasing him?" she whispered, right in his ear. He shivered a little and hated himself a lot.

* * *

She went back to fingerprints. Her pens all had glove marks and the whole team was represented at least once in her pen collection, no help there. But somewhere in the back of her mind, an impossible theory was forming, very slowly. She had to test it. She went back to the office.

"Hey Timmy…" she sounded hesitant "Could you… help me with something? After work? I need to look at the crime scene, and do an experiment… Could you help me?"

She sounded so nervous, so hesitant, as if he'd say no.

"Of course" he said, pulling her in and hugging her "anything"


	9. Chapter 9 - The Experiment

They left work together the next day and went straight to McGee's place. He stayed close to her as she explored the alley. He didn't like the idea of her being there, it was nearly dark, it was dangerous, and she'd been through enough already. But she was determined. She slowly walked around they alleyway, closely studying the bricks on the walls, the cobbles on the ground, the little stairway leading to a back door.

"Abby… What're you looking for?"

"Surfaces"

He frowned in confusion.

"I was bruised all over my back, it's been two weeks and it's still there, just a little, but I wasn't scratched or grazed or anything there, and I was wearing something just like this… I wore this especially, for tonight, to check… I think I got those bruises indoors. And the DNA from last time was useless, maybe you could… help me find more… You know, with the right clothes and boots and we kind of know the location now and…"

"Yes." He interrupted her nervous rambling "Abby, I'll help you."

They went up to the apartment, made coffee and looked nervously at each other from opposite sides of the small couch.

"Okay" said Abby, getting up "Ducky's pretty sure the big bruises were from one attack, and the bump on the head was from another, so maybe first we should assume that I was just really drunk for the first one. Maybe I went somewhere, a club or something… If I met someone at a club, I would've danced with him…" She motioned him to her "dance with me."

After a few moments she laughed.

"You don't go to the club I do, do you?"

"Guess not, how do you dance?"

Abby demonstrated. Tim's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He took a moment to recover before joining her.

Dancing, fun though it was, lead to very little DNA transfer, so they moved on.

"So… If I was in a club, there might've been a couch, or carpet, or… Maybe a bathroom?"

"You wouldn't get a couch with enough privacy"

"You really don't go to the clubs I do."

"Okay, so… Couch? You… You be drunk on the couch, an I'll…" He was clearly nervous.

"It's okay Timmy. I trust you." She lay down on the couch, trying to imagine how she'd lie if she was really drunk. They tried a few different positions, finding that as sensible as it sounded, a couch was really not a good place if Abby was extremely drunk. So they tried the floor, Abby lay down on her back, in a drunken, passed out kind of way. Probably the most likely position, she thought, and waited for Tim to work out what to do. He knelt in front of her and gently touched her knee.

"Can I?"

Abby sounded almost sarcastic. "Yes. Timmy, it's what we're here for, I'll be okay, I _trust_ you."

He softly pushed her knee to the side, then the other, then, after taking a deep, calming breath, crawled down onto her. It was really just a horizontal hug, he told himself. But not all of his anatomy listened. He ignored it and hoped she'd do the same.

"Okay… So… Even if I only moved a bit, like this" She wriggled a bit under him, he tried to breath normally "There'd be a pretty big gap where my shirt rode up, and it wouldn't take long" She wriggled again "For my skirt to come up high enough that I'd be bare on my back…"

"So?"

"Carpet burn. If he was rough enough to bruise me like that, I've have carpet burn." She took a deep breath "…could you try it?" she asked sheepishly.

He closed his eyes, put his head down beside hers and tried to forget where he was and what he was doing, just for a moment. Then he pushed his hips into hers, somehow trying to be rough and gentle at the same time, he did it a couple of times before Abby stopped him.

Breathlessly she said "I can't do this!"

He instantly pulled his body away from hers, full of regret and apology, but she grabbed him and pulled him back and said "No. I can't do this without doing… This" She pulled him close with both arms around his neck and desperately kissed him, eagerly exploring his mouth with her tongue, whimpering into his mouth as his resolve finally gave in, and he did the same. They kissed for several minutes (author's note: NCIS characters, like most humans, _can breathe through their noses! _/smut rant) before Tim pulled away, got up to his knees and offered her his hand, he pulled her up and they sat side by side on the couch, her head on his shoulder, both trying hard to regain their self-control.


	10. Chapter 10 - Everything Was Wrong

The next week, Abby redid DNA on her clothes, with the very small amount of new information they'd managed to gather before getting distracted, something they'd agreed to forget. Obviously both failed, both knew they'd fail, but they tried to keep it to themselves. In particular, they both kept quiet about the way that, creepy and wrong as the whole thing should have been, it really didn't feel that way. It just didn't feel like Abby was stressed and vulnerable, or like Tim had allowed comforting and helping her to go too far. It felt good, really, deeply, properly good, not just anatomically good.

The investigation was going nowhere, apparently. The second set of DNA tests came back almost the same as the first, with the same people, and a similar balance. But what had changed was Abby. Slowly, events, like memories of dreams, came back to her. It was hard to sort memories from assumptions, suggestions and ideas, but slowly, a picture was building itself in her mind. A very strange picture. She decided that for a while at least, this was not a picture for McGee's eyes. He'd already been through so much, and she just wasn't sure. Yet.

Slowly, investigations rolled to a halt, but McGee's visits didn't. By the end of the week, he was frustrated with the lack of evidence, the lack of results, and frankly, her. She'd given up. She fought so hard for faceless victims, but when it was her, when she was the victim… Maybe not.

He left early on Thursday, angry with the world. And Abby felt it. Everything felt wrong. Everything was wrong. She knew, she'd known on Tuesday, Major MassSpec had kindly told her, that everything was wrong. But now it was somehow worse, just a little, it hurt.

Ducky was sitting at his desk, having sent Palmer home, pondering his previous analysis of a cold case, when he heard the elevator ding. He thought he was the only one left in the building, but wasn't overly surprised. He _was_ surprised to see Abby, crying in a lab coat covered in blood. He jumped up and rushed toward her, scanning her body as he did. There was blood running down both her legs. The origin of the blood was fairly clear.

"Abby, I'm sure it's fine! Is it _very _painful?"

"No! It's not fine! Ducky, I'm pregnant!"

"Lie down, now" he said firmly.

Abby lay on an autopsy table in a growing pool of blood.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Ducky was sure it was no use. She was lying curled up on her side sobbing quietly, he covered her with a blanket and found painkillers and water for her before sitting by her side.

"I'm sorry Abigail, I'm so sorry"

"Don't worry Ducky." She said quietly "I didn't want it"

"I understand… But… You know… It might have belonged to Timothy."

"No, it couldn't… Why would…?"

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have presumed!" His face full of apology "I see. Best this way I suppose. You may never have known…"

"No, Ducky, I know. I know now. And maybe… Maybe if he had to, he'd make a good father." She gave him a weak little smile, then closed her eyes.

"I'll stay with you tonight. I think you've been through enough, I'm not going to make you go to the hospital… If you let me stay with you."

"Thank you Ducky"

* * *

The next day, Abby got up early from the couch in Ducky's office, leaving him sleeping on the floor. She thought of how much she owed him, and decided she'd do something about it. But not right now, right now she had other business. She went to Ducky's desk and neatly wrote a little note, signed it with a heart, folded it carefully, then left. She didn't plan to come back, not today, today would be spent in bed.

* * *

She delivered her short little note, of a heart and just one line: _I lost our baby._


	11. Chapter 11 - Breakthrough

Abby woke in the late afternoon on Friday, feeling anxious and restless. After pacing around her apartment for twenty minutes, she decided what to do. After an hour, she actually did it.

After her black hearse pulled up at McGee's building, she mentally paced. Was she here to tell him? Not really, she was here so he could make it all better. But what would that entail? She had one idea, she wasn't quite sure she could avoid it, she certainly didn't want to, but how angry would he be if they did that, then he found out the truth. She'd have to tell him eventually, and before sleeping with him… But not tonight.

Tim was busy typing again, and was not interested in interruptions. He'd spent hours on surreptitious investigation, neglecting his own work, then when he'd gone to tell Abby his results, she wasn't there. He'd been working for her for weeks, and she'd given up and gone home. When there was a soft knock at the door, he certainly didn't expect Abby. Abby never knocked quietly.

Abby stood at the door, waiting, breathing, keeping it together. It couldn't be that bad, it was fine, she'd be fine.

Tim opened the door with an expression of mild surprise, then annoyance.

"Abby, what're you doing here?"

She burst into tears.

He pulled her into the apartment, closed the door, lead her to the couch and hugged her until she calmed.

"Thank you Timmy"

"It's okay. Hot cocoa?"

"Sure" She smiled weakly.

* * *

After drinking hot chocolate, watching tv for an hour and even joking and laughing a little, Tim felt that she was ready to hear his news, he switched off the tv and turned to her.

"Abby, I found something today. There's a security camera at the door of this building. I reviewed the footage and there were some kids, just local thugs, they walked past at about the right time, then a group, probably them, ran back the other way a little later. It's worth checking out, I got a name, the rest won't be too hard."

"No" she whispered.

"Abby, I'm gonna solve this even if you're not!"

"No! please… just… leave it."

"Abby, someone fucked you in an alleyway!"

"NO! Gibbs fucked me in the elevator!"

Tim's mouth hung open. It stayed that way for some time.


	12. Chapter 12 - Just Once

**Nearly a month earlier**

Abby was pacing quickly around her lab, sitting down now and again, fiddling with things, then pacing again. It was getting worse, _he_ was getting worse. She used to be able to deny it, because he did, but lately, he didn't, not so much. Lately the daddy/daughter act had been slipping, he'd started to notice what she wore, kisses on the cheek started to linger. Her thoughts had slowly been changing from _That's ridiculous, it's just not possible_ toward _It's a really terrible idea_ and now they were getting to _Just once couldn't hurt... surely... maybe... _She knew there was something going on with him too, it wasn't just her. She'd assumed it was just her for years, and things had been easy and kind of fun for years. A healthy little crush on your older, scary boss can be a fun, low maintenance hobby. _Until he starts reciprocating._ Then things suddenly get complicated.

* * *

He wasn't "The One", he wasn't perfect for her, he wasn't even an overly good guy. But he smelled of boats, bourbon, Old Spice and sexiness. He looked rough, sweet, aggressive and... sexy. His voice sounded kind, animalistic, sexy and... _sexy_. And within a proximity of about five feet, that's all that mattered. Literally all that mattered. Evidence, caffeine, other people, coherent conversation, breathing: all unimportant compared with the overwhelming sexiness. The level of sexiness was actually becoming a genuine problem. Significantly more so when she heard the elevator. She quickly sat down and pretended to be doing something important.

"Everyone's gone, Abs, go home"

"But it's early"

"No it's not, you're just used to leaving late, anyway, we're not doing much good here" He leaned over her shoulder, the doing-something-important act hadn't worked, but she still stared at the screen. "Come on, let's go, I know you're not doin' anything, everything's shut down and your forgot to hide the Scrabble tab."

"Okay" She said in a sulky voice, mostly just from having been caught out. She picked up her backpack and walked with him to the elevator. They stepped in and, with a racing heart, Abby waited until the doors were just about to open at their floor, then hit the emergency stop.

_Just once _she thought _It'll only take a moment, then I'll be out of here before he even knows what's happened. One kiss. Then I'll run._

* * *

_Sorry for the long gap and the short chapter, Easter break = no lunch breaks to write in! I've also been working on Stuck on Talyn (S/M PWP) as an Easter present for Auraladen, blame her! The rest of the story will be up much quicker._


	13. Chapter 13 - The Elevator

The elevator fell into darkness with only the dim emergency lights. This wasn't going to work if she hesitated, moved too slowly, or even thought about it. She just pounced. She stepped neatly in front of him, put both arms around his neck and kissed him. A shock went through her body when he reciprocated, even though she was sure he would.

Hearts pounded, tongues battled and they both moaned into that one amazing kiss. Abby wanted to stay, she wanted to do this forever, but she knew what she had to do next. She pulled away and turned around in one movement, reaching for the emergency stop, light, fresh air. Then she'd run to her car without stopping, _then_ think about what to do next. It seemed like a good plan, but it didn't work.

As she turned, he grabbed her arm, before she even got to the button. With a swift, powerful movement, she was pressed against the wall, shaking, whimpering. She would have begged if she'd been capable of doing anything, but she didn't need to.

His whole body was pushed against her, one knee pressed between hers, kissing her desperately. She melted, pinned to the wall, only the hand rail prevented her from willingly sliding to the floor.

His hands worked fast on his belt, then he slid both hands under her skirt, still kissing her roughly, found her underwear and quickly yanked it down. Growling breathlessly, he hitched her up against the hand rail, pushing her knees up over his shoulders. He pushed in hard, she screamed in the best possible way.

Thrusting violently into her, he let her legs slide down his arms. The rail and the steel wall would have to be bruising her, but if she didn't care, and she clearly didn't, then he didn't either. So fast, so hard, there was no in-and-out just in-and-further-in. She ran her fingernails over his back, digging deep into his shoulders, down his arms to her knees, which she gripped tightly.

He didn't resist or hold back (why start now?), he bit into her shoulder and slammed her against the wall as he came. She screamed over and over, ripping her nails through her bare legs.

He didn't stop kissing her as he let her down to her feet. They separated briefly as he pulled his pants back on and she adjusted her clothes, then kissed affectionately for a few moments before hitting the emergency button. Neither said anything, they kissed once more then walked quickly to their cars, each smiling and occasionally glancing back at the other.


	14. Chapter 14 - Can't Tell You

**- McGee's Couch -**

"You wanted that! So why would you drink yourself blind? Why would you take a dingy bus or a $50 cab across town just to come here in the middle of the night? You said you needed help when you called! What help?"

She cowered and sniffled. "I'm sorry Timmy!"

"No! You didn't know what happened, you couldn't've saved us from any of this. I just don't understand why you did what you did! Why?"

"I can't tell you!"

"You can't tell me? After the month we've just had, there's something about this you 'can't tell me'!"

"Okay! I'll tell you! Then I'm gonna leave, okay? Promise you'll let me just leave after I say this, okay?"

* * *

**- One Month Earlier -**

Abby sat in her car shaking all over. _That was amazing! OH MY GOD THAT WAS AMAZING! What the hell did I just do? Wow, I can't think straight, this is crazy! Holy… Wow._

She arrived home in one piece, despite paying no attention to the road, managed to get her key into her lock, and finally flopped on the couch, where she stayed for about twenty seconds. She couldn't sit still. She found a bottle of something sticky and poured a shot. It helped a little, the burning in her mouth pulled her mind back to earth, for just a moment. A minute later, she needed another. She gathered everything marginally drinkable and laid it out on the table, then, while slowly attacking it, tried to work out why she needed it.

The moment she worked it out, she called a cab. Half an hour later, she was standing beside McGee's building. She knew why she was there, she knew what she had to do next, and she knew it probably wouldn't go well. She paced unsteadily, then leaned her back against the wall, sliding slowly to the ground with her head in her hands. If the kids hadn't arrived, she would have gotten up, she would have done it. She would have walked up to his door, she would have told him what happened and said what really needed to be said. She practiced it over and over in her head.

_I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, but it made me realize I don't want anything else, I've been avoiding it for years, but it's always been true. I love you, I only want you, forever._


	15. Chapter 15 - Cheating

Abby got halfway down the hall before he caught her.

"You're not running away this time!" He held her wrists tightly. "I'll let you run away when I've finished with you."

She sobbed and struggled. "Please let me go!"

He pulled her back to the apartment and sat her on the couch before letting go of one wrist. He stared seriously into her eyes.

"I'm not letting you do this to me again, I know what you do, you give a guy two weeks, then you run. Not again Abby, not me."

"You know what I've been doing?" She said quietly "for seven years I've been meeting nice guys, an it all seems really great then... I get this sick, wrong feeling and I run. An I always used to think it was 'cause I didn't like him like I thought I did, then, after a couple of times, I thought it was 'cause I was scared, 'cause I didn't want a white picket fence, but it always happened, even with like... Really weird, crazy guys, who didn't come with that risk. It took seven years... And a really, really bad idea to make me realize... That feeling, that sick, wrong, horrible feeling, was the feeling of cheating on you. For seven years I've been slowly inching closer to you, and you've been gently pushing me away. Just stop being gentle! Please! Tell me you don't love me, stop being sweet, tell me it's never gonna happen, then maybe I can move on!"

"Abby. It's never going to happen. You'll never want what I want."

"Maybe I do now!"

"No, I want marriage, kids, an SUV, good schools, picnics, picking out baby clothes together. You'll run off the moment I start mentioning that kind of stuff. I know you."

Abby got up and walked slowly to the door, defeated. They said nothing.

On the way home in the car, through a cloud of depression, rejection, fear and confusion, something popped into her head, a line from her least favorite white-picket-fence-and-2.5-kids movie

_You're not the victim the hero will save,_

_Not quite the model of how to behave,_

_But you are the words they will write on your grave._

_Don't give up, don't give in, don't let go. _

Her face suddenly changed from miserable to determined. Scared to hardened. It felt like a suicide mission, but she would do it if it was the last thing she ever did.


	16. Chapter 16 - Never, Forever

Abby slammed her door, went straight to her room, and started rummaging around in her top draw. She hadn't looked at it in a few months, but it was there, in the back corner, exactly where it had always been. She picked it up carefully. It looked a little worn from the years, but it didn't matter. For six years, it had symbolized her greatest fear, and yet it had always been there, she had put it there, she had no one to blame but herself. It broke her heart, that it was there, and now it wouldn't be. The consequences terrified her, but she couldn't let fear stop her any longer. She locked the door and went back to the car. Her throat was dry, her hands shook, but she drove with a look of steady determination.

She stopped at his door and took a deep, shaky breath before knocking harder and faster than she'd intended. He took his time, but he answered, standing perfectly still, staring through her, eyes red, face blank, he said nothing.

She held out the small package to him.

"I wrapped this six years ago. I've taken it out of my draw a few time each year, but I've never managed to give it to you. Take it, do what you want with it but please believe me."

She turned and walked quickly, hoping to be far enough away by the time he opened it.

Tim stood at his door feeling numb. He had told the love of his life..._ Never_. For him, never would always be the scariest word, but that's what it had to be never, because she didn't share that. For her, forever was probably the scariest word. For seven years he'd gently pushed away, because she'd never want _forever_, and he'd never want anything less. Maybe now he could move on, to someone to marry, to a forever. Not the perfect one, with the perfect woman, but better than dreaming about her, gently pushing her away, then going home alone every night.

This felt final. She'd been holding on to something, she'd wrapped it one year after after they broke up, and now she'd finally decided he should have it. She was letting go. She was gone. He looked down at the package. It had was wrapped in yellowing tissue paper with a black paper bow around it, it had seen far better days.

He closed the door and walked slowly to the couch, sat down and just stared at it. His mouth went dry. What did someone give you to signal the true end? To cut the last ties... She'd been thinking about it for years. It hurt. The key he'd given her? Had she ever given that back? Maybe something he's given her, something significant, what had he given her? Maybe it was a note, that was the scariest thing. Thinking about it made it seem like it'd just happened. He felt like they'd just broken up. Finally letting go of hope was so much worse than the actual break up.

Finally, after staring at it for longer than he'd ever stared at anything, the anxiety of not knowing overtook the terror of the unknown. He pulled the tails of the ancient bow. It pulled apart easily. Inside, there was a black box, with gold handwriting on it, Abby's hand writing.

_Forever_

Tears running down his face, he opened the box. Inside was a gold ring, engraved all round, in a script that looked very much like Elven, but was English. He pulled it out to read it.

_I love you * marry me_


	17. Chapter 17 - For All They Were Worth

Tim, the sensible one, shouldn't have driven, but he did. He put things in a bag and went. He didn't know where he'd end up, or how long he'd be gone, it didn't matter. He took clothes, a toothbrush, and one other thing. Thom E. Gemcity had bought a lot of things, notably Tony's dream wardrobe and Tony's dream car, but he couldn't buy Tim's dreams, and he wanted to be sure he always remembered that. So he didn't buy this, he designed it, and he had it made. He never planned to use it, he never planned for anyone else to see it. He spent thirty thousand dollars on a material possession he would never use, to remind himself that material possessions couldn't make him happy. That was the reason he had it, that was always the reason. Not because of the tiny bit of hope in the back of his mind, not because one day, maybe he _could_ use it... He really had spent all the money on a symbol, for himself. So he told himself over and over.

He had a quick look at it, it was still perfect, as always, then he ran out and slammed the door.

* * *

Abby didn't answer her door, but he didn't stop long enough to break it down, her car wasn't there, he knew he was looking in the wrong place, he left.

_Where would Abby go if she was scared, upset, running... Abby's happy place... Gibbs' basement... Probably not this time. The ballistics lab... Worth a try. _

* * *

Abby sat on the floor hugging her legs, with her head buried in her knees. In the last month she'd done the two things she most wanted to do, both had left her terrified and alone, with her back against a cold wall, trying to hide from the world. At least this wall was a little more comfortable than the last one, it also had less risk of thugs, but this time she felt more scared, more alone. She almost missed that night, the night when Tim might have still understood, the last night before she put him through hell.

She was staring at the wall when the door opened. She could have hoped it wasn't Gibbs, who ask her to explain, Ducky, who'd tell her she should be in bed, or Tim, who wouldn't bare thinking about. She could have hoped it was a cleaner, who would just apologize and leave. But she didn't. It didn't matter. She didn't know what would happen next, and she just waited for it. Staring at the wall.

He opened the door and saw her. He could have stepped in quietly, he could have softly said something, he could have waved a hand in front of her, he could have offered to talk about it. He didn't.

In one swift movement he dropped to his knees, had her face in his hands and was kissing her for all he was, they were, worth. He wanted nothing more than for her to know how much that was.


	18. Have I Got A Story For You!

Gibbs had had a very hard month. There were other things, but it was about Abby. Nothing else mattered like she did, and what they'd done was crazy.

He knew her, he knew she needed time, space, and, he was willing to admit, Tim. That's what she needed, that's what he'd give her.

What he needed was a lot of bourbon, a lot of basement time, and something to work on. That was easily arranged.

He knew that on the next Monday she'd come in shy, angry, excited, confused... something. She wouldn't just be normal. And all the better. If she could shrug off something like that, she wouldn't be Abby. He knew that regardless of how she felt, she'd need time, and she'd come to him as soon as she'd had enough, she was Abby.

He'd expected so much emotion, but he hadn't expected what he got. Just... Nothing. For days. So he reached out, ever so gently, without contact or expectation, but got still nothing. So he kept sending Tim down for the results, and kept ignoring how long it took him to come back.

After two weeks, he was worried, but overhearing Tony teasing McGee, he found out that Abby had spent both previous weekends with him, and that had to be good, surely. She had to be okay. He hoped.

After another two weeks, he'd given up. Then the note about the baby... He didn't know what to do. It felt just just like the end of every marriage. He'd run out of options, strategies, ideas... Head slaps, growling, kisses and caffeine were all useless, and they were the only things he had. When it came to more complex forms of social interaction, Gibbs was not your man. And he was facing another "it's over".

So when he walked into the squad room an hour early on Monday morning, he was shocked by what he saw. Abby was sitting back in his chair, at his desk, with a CafPow and a genuine smile.

The investigator in him worked faster than any other part.

"Glad you got that sorted" he said, motioning to the huge dark ruby on her finger, correctly assuming its meaning and origin.

"Same" She grinned widely. "Now, have I got a story for you!"


End file.
